


honey, there is no right way

by Jay Auris (nighthawkms)



Series: Newton Geiszler? Oh, he fucks. [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But licking Hermann is nice too, Hermann continues being bad at emotionless sex, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Newt enjoys licking things, Not just Hermann, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Prostitution, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 06:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighthawkms/pseuds/Jay%20Auris
Summary: Hermann is still thinking about Newt weeks after their encounter. And he's got nothing to do tonight except ask Newt to pay him another visit.





	honey, there is no right way

**Author's Note:**

> title of this fic comes from "Someone New" by Hozier

It has been a few weeks since Hermann rang the call service and ordered himself up one odd but enjoyable companion for the evening. He hates to say it, but the outcome of taking a chance on the call service, something he would normally find gauche, was surprisingly satisfying. Newt was good at his job, smart enough to make Hermann feel as though he wasn't taking advantage of him, and a genuinely interesting person. Hermann has thought a lot about him since then, curious about the sort of life a man like that leads in his normal day to day. He's taken to noticing his surroundings for a change when he goes to buy groceries or walks to work, hoping he might glance in a shop window and see Newt making a purchase or working behind a counter. Surely, not all his income comes from selling his body? But so far, he’s had no luck.

It's a Friday night, and Hermann is curled up on his couch, swiping a highlighter over printouts of recently published journal articles. He can't say this month's choices are the most exhilarating reads, and his mind keeps wandering, his eyes keep drifting to his phone. Finally, he sighs and tosses the papers aside, picking up the mobile and dialing the number for the service (it’s saved as “Newt” in his contacts, since "Call Service for Sex" might be a bit conspicuous if someone ever got a hold of his phone.

When he gets passed to the operator, Hermann finds himself blurting out, "ah, may I make a request? For a specific person?"

"Of course, sir," the operator answers. "Who were you interested in?"

"Is... Is Newt working tonight?" Hermann asks. He realizes now that he doesn't know if Newt keeps a regular schedule and has no idea when his hours are. It’s earlier in the evening than the last time he called, and a Friday instead of a Saturday. Newt might have the night off.

"He is available tonight, yes," the operator replies. Hermann lets out a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what he would have done if they had said no. He could try someone else... but even having only been with Newt once, Hermann would prefer not to change partners. It would feel off. He's never been good at introductions, and he's not in the mood to keep beginning new relationships.

"How long is he available for this evening?" Hermann asks.

"As long as you would like, so long as you can pay for it," the operator replies. Hermann feels like a bloody dunce, because of course that's the answer. "Our usual rates apply."

"Maybe an extra hour, this time. So, four?" Hermann requests. The sex last time was... well, it was _good._  Seeing as it’s the beginning of the weekend, hopefully Newt won't be as worn as he was last time. Hermann certainly has energy tonight. Just thinking about what lies ahead, there's already an eager excitement building in his belly.

"Four hours," the operator confirms. "Do you have any specific requests for your evening?"

"Requests?"

"Yes, sir. Were you expecting Newt to wear anything in particular, or act in any certain ways? We can fulfill most any fantasy you might prefer to act out."

"Oh, no," Hermann stammers, wondering what sorts of things Newt might wear to other clients. Certainly, some fetish outfits come to mind... "Whatever he would like, whatever is comfortable. I don't have any expectations about that."

If Hermann was nervous the first time, his chest is fit to explode the second. It’s different now that he knows the person coming to his door. It’s not just a stranger who he has no expectations of, and who has none of him. Newt seemed to enjoy his company last time, and it won’t be good if Hermann botches a good first impression with an awful second one. 

_What are you doing?_  Hermann thinks, pressing his palms into his eyes and rubbing. _You're worried about impressing a sex worker. You are paying him money to have sex with you. That is all this is. He's a nice individual, but good lord, Hermann, he's, he's just, just a..._

No. Absolutely not. He won't say it, won't even think it. No matter if this relationship is purely transactional, he can't think of Newt that way. It's so utterly disrespectful. Newt is a person, as human as Hermann, with his own life, dreams and ambitions. And Newt is being generous enough to share his gorgeous -- utterly _gorgeous_ \-- body with Hermann, and the bonus of an inquisitive, intellectual mind along with it. So, the least Hermann can do is appreciate what he's being given and respect the person giving it.

There are three sharp raps on the door. Hermann stands and strides to the foyer, rubbing his leg as he does so; it's been acting up today. That was another motivation for calling: the increased pleasure of a partnered orgasm might help push some of the ache away. It’s something he's noticed when engaging in intercourse in his past relationships. Newt had seemed alert and astute about Hermann’s leg last time, so he's sure to understand Hermann's motivation.

When Hermann opens the door, Newt is wearing the same outfit as last time, but with a green bomber jacket slung over his shoulders. Hermann will never get over how pretty the eyeliner makes him; Newt has wide, expressive eyes, and the deep black lines highlight their intensity. There's a relaxed glaze to them tonight. Hermann worries that he might be on something, but he supposes it isn't any of his business, is it?

"Hey," Newt says, smiling and sliding into the foyer when Hermann moves aside. "I was wondering if you were gonna call again."

"Yes, well, I did," Hermann says, shutting the door. "I have yet to find a significant other as you said you hoped I would last time, so I decided I could use the company."

"I get it, dude, don't have to explain anything to me," Newt responds. He hangs by the door this time, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking curiously up at Hermann. "You uh, want the same as last time? They told me you asked for an extra hour. Something else you’re looking to add on?"

"Sort of. My leg," Hermann says, motioning to the trouble-making limb as an explanation. "It's been aching like the devil today, and I usually find that sexual intercourse releases endorphins that ease the pain. I suppose I could take some paracetamol, but this seemed more fun," he finishes, smiling wryly. "Are you up for an assist?"

Newt laughs, slinging his jacket off his arms. "Yeah, man. Just tell me how I can help."

Hermann leads him to the bedroom, settling himself down on the bed with his back against the pillows. "Do you do massages?" Hermann asks, playing with the buttons on his slacks. He's oddly nervous about removing them, considering that this isn't the first time Newt will see him naked.

"I can try," Newt says, kicking his shoes off and crawling onto the mattress. "Can't say I've ever done a leg massage, but it’s all muscle manipulation in the end."

"My hip and my outer thigh are the places you'll want to focus on," Hermann explains as Newt settles between his legs. Kneeling so close, Hermann has the urge to kiss him, but that can wait. For now, he shimmies his slacks down and kicks them off, leaving his boxers, the clearly firm erection tenting the fabric. It isn't as though it’s a surprise he's hard; just thinking about their last encounter, having Newt in his presence again stokes the fire in his body. However, he's in the mood for something a little slower tonight. So, he latches onto Newt's wrist and guides his hand down to the jut of his hip, nudging Newt to press his fingers into the soft flesh and sighing happily when he does.

"Like this?" Newt asks, rubbing his fingers in firm circles. Hermann moans and nods as the tension in his muscles begins to dissipate. Newt apparently has magic hands, or he's more practiced in this sort of thing than he's letting on. He works the entirety of Hermann's hip over slowly, making sure to pay extra attention to those spots where the muscle is the tensest. Soon enough, Hermann has closed his eyes, his head tipped back, his breathing slowed as the pain fades away.

"Fantastic," Hermann mumbles, taking a sharp breath when soft lips brush the top of his thigh. "Ah, oh... Starting already, are we?" His cock twitches expectantly as a burst of hot air puffs across the tip.

"It's your time, dude," Newt replies. "Just reminding you what I'm really good at. A masseuse would be cheaper."

"You're not doing too badly," Hermann muses, shifting and grunting as Newt's thumb digs into a particularly tense bit of muscle. "And are you supposed to be so... directive of your clients? Aren't I the one who's in charge?"

"Technically, yes. But you wanted the guidance last time, so I'm just working off that," Newt replies. "If you want, I can shut up and spread my legs."

God, that shouldn't sound erotic, but the way it so casually drops out of his mouth, Hermann can picture it, can see Newt bare in front of him, wide and waiting. Hermann swallows and shakes his head, peeking an eye open. Newt's hands have stilled, and he’s looking at Hermann expectantly. Hermann finds that he's unable to speak, to express what he wants, which is foolish, because he isn't the one trying to please a client. Newt is.

Newt must see something in his face, because he leans in close, hands on the top of Hermann's thighs, looking up at Hermann through his eyelashes. "What do you want, Hermann?" Newt asks, mouth irresistibly near, mere inches away from Hermann’s lips, kissably close. "I know a massage isn't all you want from me. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. I'm here to please you, honey."

There's that term, _honey._ That sickly-sweet term that sounds odd coming out of Newt's mouth. Hermann wouldn't expect him to say it in real life; it feels like part of the show, the routine of this job, and so he puts it on. In a real relationship, Hermann expects that Newt calls his partner something like _babe_  -- casual, a little chummy, but warm and authentic to his relaxed personality. Hermann could ask him to drop the affectation, but it's the sort of thing Newt has probably built into his act (the act being prostitution), so asking him to stop seems rude. 

"I... I want you to suck me off, Newt," Hermann says after a time, shocked that he's able to vocalize it. "I want you to take your clothes off, put your mouth on me and get me off. Then... I'd like you to bugger me."

"Huh. Really?" Newt says, blinking and smiling.

"Is that quite unusual?" Hermann asks, frowning.

Newt shrugs. "Usually I'm the one getting fucked, at least when I'm working with guys. A lot of clients get this weird power trip from topping. But obviously, if that's what you want, I can oblige."

"It’s a comfortable position when my leg is aching," Hermann explains. "Easier. The other option is if I were to bugger you while we were standing up. I can easily rest my weight on my good leg in that position."

"Hmmm... maybe up against your kitchen island," Newt muses, tapping a finger to his lips and grinning when Hermann gives him an incredulous look. "Oh, come on, dude. You've got four hours. Well, three and a half, but the point is, do you really wanna stay in this bed the whole time?"

"I'll think about it," Hermann replies, shrugging his boxers down. His cock is standing tall, firm and bobbing gently in the cool evening air. "For now, if you could fulfill my request?"

Newt brought his jacket into the bedroom, and he unzips the inner pocket, pulling out half a dozen condoms -- three of his size, and three for Hermann – and tossing on the nightstand. Hermann grabs one while Newt starts to strip out of his clothes. By the time the condom is rolled on, Newt is down to his boxers. There's a small sliver of bandage peeking out from underneath the hemline on his right hip, and Hermann frowns to see it. Newt must see his expression, because he grins and shakes his head.

"Just a new tat," Newt explains, sliding his boxer the rest of the way off. The bandage goes down the side of his hip, beginning below the previously tattooed teeth of the shark he has curled around his waist, and ending on his upper thigh. "It's still healing, so I can't uncover it."

"Are you alright to work with what is tantamount to an open wound?"

Newt snorts, resting one hand on Hermann's waist, the other balanced on his good thigh. "Look, if I wasn't okay to be here, then I wouldn't be. Are you like, concerned about cross-contamination of bodily fluids? Because this baby is sealed up tight. Scout's honor."

"Why do I get the feeling you never were a Scout?" Hermann replies, smirking. Newt's grin tells Hermann he is correct. "I am not worried about that, no."

"Then let me do my job, Hermann." And he does, dropping down and wrapping his lips around Hermann's cock before he can respond.

Newt's hair is gelled, spiked back and cracking in Hermann's hands when he grips Newt's scalp. Tonight, he smells like cinnamon and vanilla; Hermann hadn't noticed any particular odor the last time, but perhaps he's bought himself a new body wash, or mousse? These thoughts come unbidden, stippled in between drags of Newt's tongue, peppered around the wet heat of Newt taking him deeper and deeper. He's curious about this new tattoo: what new sea creature has Newt decided on adding to his collection? Newt flicks his tongue up the underside of Hermann's prick in quick motions, and Hermann bows his head forwards, watching Newt's pretty lips spread wide around him.

It really is amazing, what he can do with that mouth. Hermann wonders if you're born with the inherent talent to take a large cock down your throat, or whether Newt had a lot of practice. _Of course, he's had a lot of practice, you dolt_ , Hermann thinks, gasping softly at a particularly firm swipe of Newt's tongue up the underside of the shaft. _Lord knows where else that mouth has been._

Not just where else, but with _whom_  else as well. What types of clients does he see the most? How many does he see during an average week? How often does he get tested? And what the woman had said on the phone, how would he like Newt to dress and act? He remembers all of Newt's stories about odd customers and regular services. The woman said they could fulfill most any fantasy. Does Newt have a closet in his home, dedicated to all sorts of fetish wear?

"Earth to Hermann, come in Hermann," Newt says, drawing Hermann out of his thoughts. "You're getting a little droopy there, bud. Tell me what I'm doing wrong, so I can fix it."

"Oh, no," Hermann says, sitting up, a bit frantic at the implication that Newt isn't doing something right. "It's not your fault. I was just thinking about, well... your career choice," he finishes lamely. Oh hell. He just implied that hooking will be a career for Newt. Fantastic.

Thankfully, Newt just laughs and laps at the head of his prick. "Any secrets of the trade you're interested in knowing? I wouldn't recommend this career for someone like you, you're far too pretty, you'll take all the good clients."

Hermann blushes, dropping his head back and breathing heavily as Newt swirls his tongue around the shaft. "You're one to talk... you're b-bloody gorgeous. I'd imagine you've got clients beating down your metaphorical door."

"If I did, I wouldn't have had time for you, honey," Newt responds. "A lot of people get really particular about what they want. A majorly tattooed, pudgy brunette isn’t what everyone would go for. Hell, I had to start wearing contacts because some people don't wanna kiss somebody wearing glasses, or they want me completely nude, and I've gotta see, man. Y'know?"

"You wear glasses regularly, and people complain?" Hermann asks. He tries to picture Newt in a pair, and he imagines it's something with thick frames, something to make his wide, emerald green eyes look even larger. He'd look... frankly, he'd probably look adorable. "F-fools," Hermann groans as Newt takes him all the way down. He shoves his fingers through the hair gel and grips on tightly. "I bet they look lovely."

Thoughts keep popping into his head while Newt sucks him off, curiosities about this man he wishes to answer. He can't help it, he just isn't very good at focusing on the physical act of intimacy without the emotional aspect to go along with it. And yet he's decided twice now that he's going to engage a service that is only there to fulfill physical needs. Tendo would tell him that if he wanted emotional connection, he should've gone to a damn therapist.

He can feel his orgasm bubbling its way up to the surface, but he so likes how talented Newt is with his mouth, that when he feels himself get too close, he jerks on Newt's shoulder. "Not yet, please," Hermann gasps. "I like this."

"You want me to edge you for a bit?" Newt asks, smirking. "I can do that. Squeeze my shoulder when you're close and I'll back off."

Newt proves to be just as talented in this aspect of oral performance as any other. He sucks and swirls his tongue until the second before Hermann gasps and his grip tightens, and then he's slowing down, keeping Hermann right at that edge, just too little to take him over. Then, when Hermann is starting to breathe more regularly, and his grip slackens, Newt's mouth is right back to work, taking him deep again. Each time he gets to the edge and comes back down, the intensity seems to build more quickly, and stay stronger overall. Soon, Hermann can't take more than a few hard sucks before Newt has to back off and let him recover. There's a desperate hoarseness to every "yes, Newt" and "ah, _mein Gott_ " Hermann gasps out.

"Do you wanna come?" Newt asks, words a vibrating murmur against the tip of Hermann's cock. Hermann clenches his eyes shut and nods, giving Newt leave to descend and take Hermann all the way down, burying his nose in the tufts of pubic hair at the bottom of the shaft as his throat accepts all of Hermann's girth.

It's over in seconds, Hermann crying out and arching back, a rippling release that leaves him boneless. A greedy part of him wishes he wasn't wearing protection, that he could shoot right down Newt's throat and Newt would be glad to accept it, or maybe let him spill somewhere else, against his lips, his cheek, his forehead; a sacrilegious baptism. Alas, it's an impossibility. Still a nice fantasy though, imagining Newt on all fours over his legs, licking Hermann's come off his lips, eyes low, eager... The image alone gives Hermann a nice little shiver at the end of his orgasm.

"Hmmmm, how was that?" Newt asks, wiping a bit of his own drool off his mouth. "I don't mean to brag, but you were getting really loud towards the end of it."

"It isn't bragging if it's the truth, Newt," Hermann says, smiling in satisfaction. Oh, he surely made the right choice by requesting another hour. "Mmmm, how is your stamina? Would you like to get off once before we move on to penetration?"

"Do you want me to get off?" Newt asks, hovering over him. "I usually bounce back pretty quick from my first orgasm, like fifteen minutes, maybe? Might be helpful if we're trying to do the 'low and slow' ride later."

Hermann sits up, cupping Newt's cheek and kissing him. There's a tingle of hunger, of want, already making its way through his body again. He'll probably be ready very quickly, but he's interested in seeing Newt from a new angle first.

"Lie on your back against the pillows," Hermann instructs. He moves to the side, sitting cross-legged and facing Newt as he settles against the mattress. "Good. Now, I'd like to see you play with yourself. Do or think about whatever you'd like to. I just want to see what you look like when you're making yourself feel good. Is that alright?"

"I'm not gonna complain," Newt replies. He's already prepared himself with protection, so it's simple for him to grasp himself in hand and close his eyes, taking a slow, shivery breath. "Just, uh, do whatever I want?"

"Yes," Hermann says. "Show me what you like."

Hermann learns over the course of the next twenty minutes that Newt likes several things. He likes to be touched all over: fingertips skimming down his stomach, tweaking his nipples, pushing two of his own fingers between his lips to suck them for a moment. He likes to focus his grip towards the bottom of his shaft, wincing once or twice when he strokes too hard against the tip; apparently, it's very sensitive. He gets a little wheezy when he builds himself up, a little petulantly whiny, as if he's mad at himself for being so cruel. His eyelashes flutter prettily on a particularly good stroke, and his tongue peeks out between his lips, like he's searching to be kissed.

"Does it feel good?" Hermann asks. He's immediately answered with a breathless nod. "What are you imagining? That is, if you don't mind my asking."

"It's f-fine," Newt says, biting his lip and whimpering in a way that banishes any signs of flaccidity from Hermann's own member. "I'm imagining I've got some guy over me..."

"What sort of guy?" Hermann asks, leaning forward.

"Not too huge but, like, muscled," Newt replies. "Big hands, I like big hands... yeah."

"And what is he doing, Newt?"

"He's... he's got me pinned under him, and he's touching me, teasing me." Newt shifts slightly, dragging the index and middle finger of one hand down his collarbone. "He's a little rough but he's not hurting me."

"Is he kissing you?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to...?"

Newt nods, surging up to meet Hermann's lips when he leans over Newt.

"What else, Newt?" Hermann whispers against Newt's mouth. "Tell me more."

"He wants me, and I want him to have me," Newt groans. "He's working me over like this, and he's getting ready to push one of those thick fingers into me, _Jesus."_

"You like that roughness, Newt?" Hermann asks. "A man's fingers stretching you open?" He looks down at his own hands: smooth and lean, impossible to mistake their length for girth.

"Mmhmm," Newt nods. One hand is still working his cock hard, the other finding Hermann's hip and tugging him in a tentative request to straddle Newt, which Hermann does so. "I want him so bad, want him to fill me right up."

Hermann catches Newt's hand as it pulls away, and slowly guides it down between their legs. "Why don't you show me how it feels when he opens you up?"

Newt eagerly nods, whining softly as his own index and ring finger find the pucker of his entrance and push their way inside. "God, _yes_ ," Newt gasps, and he doesn't resist when Hermann holds his hand there, even moving it a little closer to sink his finger in even further. His heels are digging into the bed.

"Isn't that nice?" Hermann asks, smiling as Newt whimpers and arches back. He's such a pretty man, made even more gorgeous when Hermann knows that he's enjoying himself. "How much would he open you up before he fucked you?"

"Just enough," Newt pants. "I'd want to really feel his dick stretching me out, y'know?" He blinks his eyes open, gaze low and lustful. "Though I don't know if I could make up a fantasy guy who could open me up the way that you can, honey."

Hermann swallows, shifting and pressing a hand against his groin, which is sparking to life again. He knows Newt is just fluffing his ego, but his cock seems to buy it hook, line and sinker. "You said you've a quick refractory period?" he asks. "I'd like to see that in action."

Newt chuckles and nods his head. "So basically, you're asking me to come so I can get it up again quick and fuck you like you want, right?"

"I don't want to make you feel obligated-" Hermann says, knowing how stupid it sounds the moment the words leave his mouth. Of course, Newt feels obligated. Hermann is paying him money to put out.

"It's fine," Newt says, winking at Hermann. "I can see you like watching me. Enjoy the show." He lifts his hips a little so Hermann gets a better view, and starts stroking himself firmly, pushing a third finger into himself and letting out a low moan. " _Yes_ ," he groans arching upwards. Hermann can see it in the way Newt moves, how much he loves having something opening him up wide, stretching him out. Hermann’s cock apparently wants to be that something, because with every moan and groan Newt makes, his prick twitches and throbs a bit more, slowly waking up. If Newt is imagining someone bent over him, doing this, Hermann is imagining that he’s that someone. He remembers how good he felt inside Newt the last time. How lovely it was to see him writhing and moaning because of Hermann. Even if it was a bit of a show, well, what a show indeed.

By the time Newt comes with a shout and a heavy shudder, Hermann’s cock is firm and aching. "Gorgeous," Hermann mutters, kissing Newt's pectoral muscle as he comes down from his release. "I think I would hire you just to see that, if that was all you did."

Newt blushes, biting back a grin. "Lucky for you, I do so much more. Here, I'm gonna clean up a little, okay? Then show me how you'd like this done."

Hermann hasn't gotten the chance to be penetrated in a while. Unfortunately, he's met a few too many guys who insist on his topping on account of the size of his member, but bloody hell, he likes a good buggering sometimes, and that's the benefit to this. He doesn't have to worry about negotiating for that role, Newt will simply do as he's asked. Although that, in and of itself, isn't a comfortable concept for Hermann. He doesn't want Newt to say yes to things he's truly uncomfortable with.

He's learned over the years how to have the most comfortable sex with his hip disability, and when he wants to be penetrated, the best position is to lie flat on his stomach, head on a pillow, with his legs spread wide out. This keeps his hip from having to stretch or strain or bear his weigh This keeps his hip from having to stretch, strain, or bear his weight, and usually if his partner is thorough in preparation, it's a relaxing, enjoyable experience. After Newt has cleaned himself up, Hermann takes this position, spreading out in the center of the bed and resting his head in his arms. He glances up at Newt, who kneels beside him.

"You'll tell me if it's hurting, right?" Newt asks, and Hermann nods, shivering as Newt runs a hand through his hair. Returned to a state of arousal, any little touch of Newt’s feels good, needed.

"Of course. I'm paying to enjoy myself, aren't I?" Hermann responds. It's not meant to be dismissive, just to remind Newt that Hermann isn't some innocent, blushing virgin about the matter. "Whenever you're ready, go ahead. I'm not in any rush, so don't try and force anything."

"I can make you feel good in other ways while I'm getting it back up," Newt mumbles, leaning down and nipping at Hermann's earlobe. "You want that, honey?"

"Newt..." He wants to snap that he isn't Newt's _honey_ , and that if he hypothetically was, he'd prefer a far better pet name. Instead, he says: "Yes, whatever you'd like to do. I'm interested."

They end up with Newt lying next to Hermann, fingers on one hand slicked up and pressing into Hermann's entrance while Newt cups Hermann's cheek with his other hand and keeps their lips locked together. Every time Hermann squirms or shudders, Newt holds him firmly in place and keeps his tongue practically buried down Hermann's throat. His fingers are gentle and slow to encroach, so that Hermann feels the barest of pressure, more like a pleasant massage that's slowly stretching him open. Newt's just as practiced at this as he is with anything else involving sex, apparently.

The sweetness, the relaxed ease with which Newt plies him is almost too cruel to bear. Hermann finds his cock is pulsing with a need to be touched, and when he grinds against the mattress, Newt chuckles. "You make my job easy, Hermann. You're so easy to please. Really eager too."

"Some of us don't get a lot of action very often," Hermann says, gripping Newt's shoulder when his index finger brushes deep inside of Hermann. He hadn't even realized Newt had pushed his fingers that far in; he's hitting all sorts of wonderful, oversensitive areas. "How is your, ah, refractory period?"

"Keep showing this much enthusiasm and it won't be much longer," Newt says.

Hermann is panting little needy breaths now, leaning up against Newt's hand when he strokes it through Hermann's hair. He's grinding into the mattress with both hands gripping the sheets, and Newt is dutiful to keep his fingers buried deep in Hermann, adding a third one with a gentle, smooth slide. Hermann moans wantonly; it's so good, but it's not enough. He knows what he wants.

" _Newt_ ," Hermann gasps. "Please, I need it."

Newt brushes his mouth across the edge of Hermann's ear. "You wanna ask for it by name? Kinda sounds like you do. That something you're into? Begging to get fucked?"

Hermann whimpers, because that idea is suddenly so appealing, and he nods eagerly. "Yes..."

"Yes what, honey?"

"Newt, I, I want you."

Newt nips at his earlobe. "Want me for what, Herms? Come on, lemme hear you say it."

He doesn't know why the words are so hard to say, when his body knows exactly what he wants. They're at the tip of his tongue, but his lips stay sealed. His face is hot, embarrassed at the thought of what he should say, even if Newt already knows. 

"Newt," Hermann croaks, eyes clenched as tight as his body around Newt's fingers. "I c-can't, I-"

"Hermann," Newt says in a voice that manages to growl and whisper at the same time. " _Beg for it._ "

Hermann shudders, pressing his face into the pillow. "Please Newt... _please_ bugger me, god."

"Yeah, there we go. Okay. You know, it's really cute that you call it that," Newt says as he sits up, condom easily reachable from the nightstand. Hermann's legs have curled back together from the tension, and he spreads them again as Newt shifts to kneel between them. "Gotta be the weirdest word to describe fucking I've ever heard. You say it so sincerely too, dude." Hermann feels him lean over, feels the length of Newt's cock rest between his cheeks. He moans as Newt drags himself back and forth a few times, teasingly close to penetrating him, but never quite doing so. Hermann is moments away from begging again when Newt mumbles in his ear. "You ready?"

"Mhmmm," Hermann says, resting his cheek against the pillow, sighing in relief. "More than."

"Tell me if anything's wrong and I'll stop," Newt says as his hand slips between them to grip his shaft. He rocks his hips back and lines himself up with Hermann. The head of his prick has no trouble pushing past the tight outer ring, and Newt has prepared Hermann so well, his cock practically slips in, smoothly thrusting to the hilt.

Hermann sighs, adjusting to the girth, which like the oft quoted folk tale, is neither too small, nor too big, but just right. "You feel nice," Hermann says, smiling when Newt presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "It's been far too long."

Newt sits up, his hands pressing against Hermann's spine, his knees clenched around Hermann's thigh. "You don't do this with a toy or something?" Newt asks. He moves slowly at first, slipping about halfway out of Hermann and then gliding back in. The preparation means no stinging or unpleasant stretching, just a deep pressure, a satisfaction from being filled.

"It isn't the same when it’s not a real organ," Hermann mumbles, resting his head on his arms. His cock is twitching against his belly, pinned to the bed. He makes a pleased sound when Newt thrusts harder the next time. " _Scheiße_ , can you do that again?"

"I can do whatever you want, hun," Newt says. "You want something relaxing and slow, right? So, I'll take my time, build up that pleasure."

"Yes, ahh... That sounds nice," Hermann groans, pushing back to meet Newt's hips. "As long as we both feel good. _God_ , Newt, don't stop that."

Newt laughs, bowing his head to lick a stripe up Hermann's back. "Wasn't planning on it. You're so tight like this, I bet I'm hitting every little spot, huh?"

Hermann nods enthusiastically. It's true that with his legs pinned together, Newt can't get quite as deep as he likes, but Hermann can feel every inch of that lovely cock stretching him open. It's just enough sensation and friction to keep Hermann aroused and moaning in pleasure, but not enough to push him close to the edge. Like this, Newt could ride him for quite a while.

He lets his mind wander, drifting off into pleasant fantasies as Newt's hands stroke gently down his back. Maybe he's not in his own room. Maybe in this fantasy, he's in a massage parlor, and his masseuse, Newt, offers him an added treat to go along with the general service. Hermann is lying on the table, and the first press of Newt's fingers into him shocks him, but now he's found that this man has a talent for more than just working the kinks out of his back, and another appendage to do it with. Or maybe he's the prince of a far-off kingdom who's been given in marriage to another prince, and they're consummating their relationship. His new spouse is odd but kind and wants Hermann to enjoy himself despite his nervousness.

Or maybe this is the deepest of his fantasies, the one where he's found someone who loves him, who wants him as he is, and he doesn't have to go hiring someone to get this. Not that Newt isn't lovely, but there's no illusion as to why he’s here. Even if he enjoys Hermann's company, that doesn't mean he'd give Hermann one look if they met in a bar, or on the street, or in a shop. He's far too uninteresting, too stiff to catch the notice of someone as interesting as Newt. But at least he can imagine.

After a time, Newt ends up draped over Hermann's back, his breath hot in Hermann's ear, his hands clutching Hermann's shoulders. He's like a warm blanket against Hermann's normally chilly frame, one that has a particular penetrative accessory that most blankets are sorely lacking. They roll their hips in tandem as Hermann tries to get more friction. The bedsheets are absorbing his heat, leaving him thrusting into warm fabric, but he's starting to get impatient. He wants more.

"Can you go deeper?" Hermann asks, groaning. "Please, I want to see how deep you can fill me, Newt."

"Shit, yeah," Newt mumbles, sitting up. "Give me a second? I'll make sure you're nice and comfortable."

The sudden emptiness of Newt slipping out makes Hermann whine with disappointment. He opens his eyes and sees Newt stretching past him to grab some pillows, and they arrange them under Hermann's hips to give him some support in kneeling properly. Hermann grips the pillows and shuffles his legs apart, gasping when Newt quickly thrusts back into him. The move immediately drives Newt far deeper than he has been hitting, right to Hermann's core and up against the lovely little organ Hermann has been hoping Newt will hit.

" _Yes_ ," Hermann moans. "Mmmm, I like that."

"I can tell," Newt murmurs. "You're shaking, honey. You want me to go a little harder? Get you really fired up?"

Hermann nods, pressing his forehead against the bed. "Please, you're so good at doing that, Newt."

His assessment is very, very accurate, as Newt starts up a steady, firm pace that strikes Hermann deep each time. Hermann can't see himself like this, but he imagines it: how he must look moaning and surging backwards, sticking his rear end higher at each thrust, Newt bent over him, with his firm hands gripping Hermann's waist, tattoos swirling up his arms to muscles that tense and shine with a thin layer of sweat. Newt's expression is focused, but his lips part in breathy little pants as his cock is encased by Hermann's tightness.

A sudden brush of skin against Hermann's cock makes him gasp. He's apparently arched himself back enough that Newt can find his member and take it in a firm grip. Only then does Hermann realize he doesn't have a condom on.

"Ahh, _N-Newt_ ," Hermann whines, "I'm not-"

"Oh, oh yeah," Newt says, and his hand pulls back. Hermann mourns the loss of contact. "Sorry, you want me to-"

"No, it's alright," Hermann replies. He shifts his weight to his left arm and reaches down with his right to grasp himself. "I can. Unless you need me to put one on? I'm clean, but we can certainly stop if it's making you uncomfortable."

"Nah," Newt says. "I think you're one of the few people in this business I believe. Besides, even if you had something, I'm not gonna come into contact with anything in this position that a condom would protect against. Unless you want some extra protection?"

"This is silly," Hermann says, settling back down. He's fairly certain they're both being ridiculous about the whole thing, and the conversation isn't helping his libido, his cock slowly softening in his hand. "Just bloody rail me, would you?"

Newt laughs and snaps his hips forward. Hermann moans low, that one thrust almost immediately returning him to full firmness. "Can do, Herms."

So, Newt does, setting a relentless pace as Hermann strokes himself, mouthing deliriously satisfied cries into the sheets. The tip of his cock is beading with pre-come, dribbling across his fingertips and slicking his fist up to make the strokes even smoother. It's so good. It's _too_  good. Hermann knows Newt is paid to do this, to know how to please someone, but Hermann is at risk of never being satisfied by anyone else. At least, his lust-addled brain seems to think so.

" _Newt_ ," Hermann gasps once again, when he feels the crest of his orgasm. "S-short thrusts, deep, _please_."

Newt doesn't say anything, but he listens. Hermann feels that unrelenting staccato against his prostate, and he arches his back, muscles seizing in a tension as he spills over his hand, coming in a rush. His body tightens, but it can only do so much around the thick, piercing length of Newt's cock. It feels so big at the moment of his orgasm, he ruts back against it, whimpering in pleasure. Yes, god how he loves Newt's cock.

Apparently, the squeezing is too much for the other man. "Hermann, _fuck_ , I gotta pull out or I'm gonna come," Newt moans

"Do it," Hermann moans. "Come inside me, Newt, I want it."

His request is answered by a brilliant few thrusts into his over-sensitized body. Newt slams into him on a final thrust and stills, groaning quietly.

"Did- did you come?" Hermann pants.

"Mmhmmm," Newt replies. "Jesus, man. You get so tight when you come. It's fucking awesome. I love it."

Hermann chuckles, closing his eyes. "Well, it's only because you're quite fantastic at buggering me. I would have been half as tight without that."

"I'm still waiting on that Yelp review," Newt teases. "Think I pushed it up a little farther?"

"God _yes_ ," Hermann moans, smiling when Newt laughs and pats his hip. "We should clean up. You've left me absolutely filthy."

"I get the feeling you don't mind," Newt says. "Here, push a little forward now..."

Hermann's a little sore, and Newt has the kind sense to pick up his cane where it's gone to the ground and give him a hoist up. Newt asks if he needs any help cleaning up, but he doesn't say it with the tone of a man looking to turn a shower into another sexual encounter. As sweet as it feels, Hermann has plenty of experience taking care of himself post-intercourse.

"You can go sit in the living room, if you'd like," Hermann says, leaning in to peck Newt on the cheek. It feels natural, but obviously Newt doesn't think so, with the look of surprise on his face when Hermann pulls back. "Oh, ah, sorry, did... was I not supposed to...?"

Newt smiles with his mouth but not his eyes. "Told you last time, you're far too nice to be doing this," he says, patting Hermann's shoulder. "Yeah. Uh, I'll just go sit."

"Get yourself something to eat if you'd like," Hermann calls to Newt as he walks away. There's an odd, uncomfortable tension in the air. Newt gives a wave of acknowledgement but says nothing.

Hermann gets into the shower, running the steaming heat over his muscles until the aches disappear. He doesn't hear any movement outside; no sound of Newt moving through the kitchen, puttering through his cabinets and refrigerator. He can't help but feel he's done something wrong. Newt had said last time that Hermann could kiss him. He'd seemed very willing to do so while they were having sex. Perhaps it was that Hermann had done it outside of that context? And yet, hadn't Newt kissed him last time, before he'd left?

The problem is, Hermann has no real idea how he's supposed to act in this scenario, outside of what Newt explains. He can't imagine that the entirety of relationship norms go out the window in these circumstances. They were friendly and amiable last time. Hermann enjoys his company. He's not so low in esteem to think that Newt wouldn't enjoy his outside of paying for it. Newt has been understanding. He's been patient with Hermann's lack of knowledge. Isn't it alright to show him a bit of appreciation? The slightest bit of affection?

_I can't risk get attached,_  Hermann thinks, sighing and leaning forward to put his face under the stream of water. _Well, I suppose he can't risk it either._

The shower only takes him a few minutes. When he emerges into the living room, fully dressed in a white t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants, Newt is sitting on the couch, flipping through one of the academic papers Hermann has left askew on the coffee table. His eyes skim over the page with a practiced efficiency, someone who's spent late nights trawling through dozens of articles on his way towards a degree.

"I don't understand how you find this interesting," Newt says, glancing up for a moment. He does a double take. "You look festive. Where's the Santa hat?"

Hermann rolls his eyes, smirking. "You can see it if you pop by during the holidays," he counters, motioning with his hand towards the kitchen. "Did you eat?"

Newt shakes his head, folding the paper. "Your options are kinda limited, dude. Not that I can't dig squirting mustard out of the bottle straight down my throat, but I assumed you'd disapprove."

Ah. Right. Hermann has been lax in shopping this week. There's likely nothing much in there besides some milk, eggs, perhaps a few hunks of cheese and some uncooked vegetables. His pantry is fairly well stocked with dry goods, but that would require a more concerted effort.

"What's your opinion of baked goods?" Hermann asks. Newt perks up immediately, and Hermann smiles. "I thought so. Chocolate? I think I've everything needed for some brownies."

Newt nods rapidly, tossing the paper back onto the coffee table. "Hell yes. I mean, if you wanna make that. Up to you. Don't make the effort on my account."

"Newt. Do you want the damned brownies or not?"

"Yes."

"Good," Hermann says, turning and walking to the kitchen. "You're going to help me make them. Come on."

Hermann learns that Newt isn't much for cooking or baking, and while he's got a theoretical grasp of the science, he's going to need some education. Hermann is far from a professional, but he's got a decent amount knowledge and some family recipes on his side. He directs Newt to get the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, oil, vanilla extract and cocoa powder out of the pantry while he sets up the stand mixer and finds the butter and eggs. The family recipe for brownies is written on a note card flecked with swipes of old cocoa powder. Hermann reads the directions off to Newt, pulling out different bowls and measuring spoons and cups when needed.

Newt seems excited and happy to be going along with this. He ends up with flour on his cheek, sugar on his shoulder, and a smear of chocolate on his jaw by the end. Hermann can only laugh and grab a paper towel to wipe him off as Newt pours the batter into the greased pan. He licks his lips as Hermann rubs the chocolate off his face, staring down at the batter. "Can I, like, lick the spatula after this?"

"I assumed you'd want the beater," Hermann responds, gently taking the mixing bowl and the spatula. Newt nods and freely gives them. As Hermann scrapes the last of the batter into the pan, Newt grips the beater, still attached to the stand, and tries to remove it. "Hold on, hold on," Hermann says, sliding the pan into the oven and closing the door. "You'll break it. Let me."

Newt steps back, licking chocolate batter from his fingers as Hermann deftly grips the beater by the top and twists the mechanism, popping it off. "You act as if you've never used one of these," Hermann says, handing it off by the bottom so Newt doesn't get any more batter on his fingers.

"We only had the hand mixer kind," Newt says, shrugging. He draws his tongue up one of the sides, moaning happily at the taste. Hermann feels a very specific, very noticeable tingle down below, watching this. He swallows, sticking the spatula into his mouth to have something to suck on. "We didn't do a lot of baking anyway," Newt continues. "I only ever used these things with my grandma, and she's overseas so I didn't see her a lot."

"Well, we've got about forty minutes to wait," Hermann says. He's blatantly staring at Newt, who keeps getting flecks of batter on his chin and at the edges of his mouth. God, Hermann wants to lick them off. "So, is there anything you'd like to do?"

Newt shrugs, sucking hard on the smooth porcelain. He looks Hermann up and down, his mouth curling up in a smirk. Then, he very purposefully laves his tongue through the beater holes, lapping the rest of the chocolate off with long strokes of his tongue. Hermann swallows again. Bastard. He knows exactly what he's doing. Newt puts the beater down on the counter, sucking the rest of the chocolate off of his fingers. Hermann finds it hard to breathe.

"You wanna fuck me?" Newt asks. He slides one hand down to flick open the button of his jeans. The other hand slips into his pocket, pulling the edge of a condom out, like a welcome invitation.

Hermann has him pinned against the island counter in a minute, kissing him hungrily. Newt makes a needy sound, high and pleased, when Hermann slides a hand through Newt's hair and tugs his head back, lapping the rest of the batter off his chin.

"Turn around," Hermann growls. If Newt is going to be a tease, then by god, Hermann is going to take the bait.

With Hermann's fumbling hands barely getting the condom on, and Newt's rushed preparation with a packet of lubricant, it takes them a minute. But after that minute, Hermann buries himself into Newt, upright and leaning on his good leg as he grips Newt's arms and holds them against the counter top. Back to chest, he thrusts hard into the ridiculous tightness, taking pleasure not just from the feeling of Newt's body but also from the eager, whining noises he makes. Hermann is only a few inches taller than Newt, but the kitchen island is low enough that Hermann can bend Newt over and pin him wholly to the top. They've had enough sense to yank Newt's black t-shirt off and leave him bare-chested. Otherwise he'd be getting drops of batter stained into the fabric, instead of melting against the heat of Newt's belly.

" _Hermann_ ," Newt gasps, nails scrabbling at the counter. " _F-fuck_ , teasing you is _such_  a good idea..."

"You utter _brat_ ," Hermann pants into his shoulder. "I've got... what's the clock say... seventy-five bloody minutes left with you and I'm going to _use_  it."

Newt laughs through a keening cry, shoving back against him. "Please do, _Jesus_... You're so damn big!"

"I'm- I'm not hurting you, right?" Even lust-driven, Hermann will stop if he must. He's got no intention of making this unpleasant for Newt.

Newt furiously shakes his head. "No, god... the opposite. C'mere," he pants, nudging Hermann up a little and twisting his head back. He catches Hermann's mouth with his own, lapping his tongue eagerly at the edges, licking batter off of Hermann's mouth and making him giggle from the ticklish feeling.

Once the batter is gone, the kissing turns heavy and wanton. Hermann wraps his arms around Newt's body, pinning Newt's arms to his sides. He's got good leverage and each thrust is a singing slide of delicious heat. Newt whines against his lips, and Hermann wants to hear it again and again. He twists his hips as best he can, testing to see what works best to draw those delectable sounds out of Newt. The man is shaking in his arms, but every time Hermann slows, wanting to make sure Newt still feels good, Newt begs him for _harder_ , for _faster_. Hermann wants to give it to him, but he's only so strong, and his legs can only take so much.

"The couch, Newt," Hermann gasps after a while. "I can go harder on the c-couch."

"Only if you want, Hermann..." Newt moans. "Whatever you want."

"I want to feel good.... want _you_  to feel good."

"I do... _fuck_!"

"Then," Hermann pants, "then let's just..." He doesn't have to finish the statement. Newt nods and whines, dropping back against the width of the island and spreading his legs as wide as he can from this angle.

In the reflection of the oven, Hermann can see how pink-faced and flush Newt is, eyes hazed with lust, lips parted and tongue darting out in little desperate pants. His own reflection is much the same, hands shockingly steady as he snaps his hips in a rhythmic fashion. They're utterly debauched, the picture of uncontrollable ecstasy. It's enough to send Hermann flying over the edge, crying out and slamming into Newt's hips, burying himself so deep that it must do something for Newt, because at the same moment his body squeezes as tight as a vice and he muffles a scream against the counter, shaking through his own release.

As soon as Hermann's head clears, he stumbles back, sliding out of Newt and gripping the edge of the counter behind him. "Are you alright?" he gasps. "Did I hurt you on that last bit?"

"N-no... Fuck. I'm okay. Would've been worth it even if you had," Newt mumbles, slumped bodily against the kitchen island. "Where the hell did that come from?"

Hermann shrugs. "You are a ridiculously attractive man and you fellated a bloody beater while asking if I wanted to bugger you. What the hell did you expect?"

Newt snorts, nodding. "Yeah, okay. I guess that's the obvious answer." He pushes up off the island, looking down. "Shit. I, uh, I wasn't wearing protection." Ah, yes, now Hermann can see the line of semen leaking down the side of his island.

"It's fine. Just wipe it up, maybe a little water and soap." Hermann glances at the timer. "We've still got about ten minutes before the brownies come out of the oven."

"Well, we've sure as shit burned off the energy for them," Newt responds.

They clean themselves up -- _again_  -- and when the timer rings, Hermann pulls the aromatic treats out of the oven and sets them on the stovetop. "They need a minute to cool. You'll burn yourself if you try to take them out now," Hermann says, shooing Newt away from the pan. "Get yourself a drink."

"They smell so good, man," Newt says. "I wish everyone who cooked for me cooked as well as you do."

Hermann bites his lip, feeling the heat in his cheeks. "Well, don't say that until you've tasted it."

Somehow, Hermann manages to have Newt wait five whole minutes before cutting into the pan of brownies. It's still incredibly soft and crumbly, so a plate and fork are required. Newt has already gotten himself a tall glass of whole milk, and when he takes a massive bite of brownie, he swallows, makes a pleased _mmmmm_  and then drinks half the glass.

"God, that is so fudgy, dude!" Newt says when he finishes gulping the milk.

"I'll assume you like it then," Hermann says. Newt nods and takes another bite to confirm his delight. He looks so happy, it warms Hermann's heart to a concerning degree. "Well, I'll wrap some up to take with you."

"You don't have to," Newt says, taking a much more reasonable bite. "You're already feeding me now."

"I'll never finish these by myself," Hermann replies. He's cut himself his own piece, and he chews slowly, savoring the fudgy flavor and remembering why he never makes these. He's got no one to share them with and they'll go stale long before he can finish them alone. "You said I'm supposed to be satisfied, yes? Well I'll be satisfied if I don't have to throw out half a pan of brownies in three days' time."

Newt grins and takes another big bite. "Wew, I gesh I can't wefoos," he says through a mouthful of brownie. The image hits Hermann -- Newt in his kitchen, shirtless, chewing happily on a chocolate confection and looking comfortably at home -- with a sudden, bittersweet fondness.

_Bloody hell_ , Hermann thinks, nearly choking on his next bite. _You're playing with fire, Gottlieb. Take care or you're liable to get burned._

Hermann cleans up the dishes while Newt sits at the counter, eating another brownie at a more reasonable pace. He asks after Newt's schooling, and Newt says he's doing well, but doesn't seem to want to elaborate. They fall into a silence that should feel amiable but doesn't. Hermann keeps glancing at the clock, watching his time with Newt wind down. Twenty minutes to go, then fifteen, then ten, then five...

"Here," Hermann says, handing Newt a bundle of brownies, wrapped in parchment and plastic wrap. He can hear the vibrating buzz in Newt's pocket, telling him their session has come to an end. "Let me get my wallet, and I'll pay you."

"Oh. Yeah," Newt says, taking the bundle. "Can't forget that."

Hermann counts the money quietly while Newt slips his jacket on at the door. He's at war in his own head; one half tells him that this should be the last time, and he needs to face the reality that he's not cut out for meaningless sex. The other half balks at the thought of never seeing Newt again. The world is wide and there's no certainty that they might pass on the street, or meet in the shop. The only real way Hermann knows he might see Newt is through the call service. He can't possibly ask him to start a friendship in these circumstances. It'd be outlandishly improper for Hermann to take advantage of the power differentials at play. Newt might feel obligated to say yes, if he thinks his boss would be mad at losing a client. But if he never calls again, would Newt's boss think he had messed up anyway?

The hour chimes on the wall clock as Hermann holds out the money. Newt takes it, thumbing quickly through it and then tucking it away. "So, uh, thanks for the brownies," Newt says. "I hope everything was to your satisfaction."

Hermann nods, twiddling his fingers together. "Of course. You're fantastic. I just..."

Newt frowns. "You just?"

"I was wondering," Hermann says. He can feel himself blushing, knows he probably looks a fool. "Do you ever have, well... regulars? People you see on a scheduled basis?"

"Not really," Newt says, shrugging. "They don't like us being on reserve. Too many complications. Easier if it's just whenever someone calls."

"I see," Hermann says, nodding. "Just thought I'd inquire."

"Besides," Newt says. "Weren't you gonna try and find someone to be with? Like, I know I'm doing the worst advertising for my services here, but I told you. You seem like the kinda guy who prefers real relationships."

"I have high standards," Hermann replies, shrugging. "I'm not going to let someone into my life unless I can see they'll treat me right. I've settled too many times in the past with too many men who've seen me as a novelty or an oddity. Someone to pass a little time with, not to spend a life with."

"Hmmmmm..." Newt says, looking at Hermann with a ponderous expression. "It'd take a real idiot to not value a guy like you."

"Newt..." Hermann begins, uncertain as to what he's implying. But Newt waves him off.

"Fridays and Saturdays are usually my busiest nights," Newt says. "Sundays I take for studying and homework. But, uh, Mondays are really slow. If someone wanted to, they'd be pretty much guaranteed to have me come by if they called up then."

"I see," Hermann says. He smiles. "I suppose someone shall keep that in mind."

Newt doesn't kiss him goodbye. But that's alright. Hermann feels as though, this time, he got something more important.

**Author's Note:**

> I have had SO many people demand a sequel and I gave in (I mean I already planned this as a series soooooo... I guess it's not giving in so much as keeping my word). Thanks to all the Trash Snakes for encouraging/peer pressuring/threatening under penalty of angst (lookin' at you, lindsey) me to write part 2.
> 
> Shout out to the person who bought me a kofi just to ask about this series' continuation. I literally already had the draft for this going when you did but it was SO appreciated and a great reminder that people were receptive to me continuing.
> 
> Thanks to CommunionNimrod for great beta work that helped make this extra sexy!
> 
> Also shoutout to freezerjerky who gave me the brownies idea. Because, as you said, Hermann Gottlieb would absolutely bake brownies for his call boy.
> 
> Finally, eternal shoutout to feriowind who came up with this series idea in the first place.


End file.
